


Light

by fireandrain



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: its short, just a conversation between the three, might make something longer later with another prompt in mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 04:49:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4166514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireandrain/pseuds/fireandrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>she thought of her mother, she thought of the others, her knuckles were raw and creaking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light

**Author's Note:**

> just something I cooked up in an hour or two, nothing of real weight though I thought these three would be interesting in an interaction together! enjoy!

Children were a foreign concept to Sun. She didn’t particularly hate them, they were just there, taking up space in a crowd of faces. Coddling them, praising them, it was all a distant memory she kept for occasions like this. She couldn’t help the memories when they took over, couldn’t help but lament in the seeing that smile, feeling the warm skin on her fingertips, how her heart would swell with love just at the sight of her…

It had been a week since they released her from the prison complex, her knuckles were raw and creaking as she placed them on the wood of the bench, her hair still smelled of her cell. She had nowhere to go other than to her coach, she couldn’t stomach seeing her family, they’ve occupied her mind for too long. Sun left her coach to tend to his breakfast, she needed to get away for awhile, just to stay in the solidarity of the morning. Instead of words, she let the water fountain fill the air with soft pitters, filler noise.

Her clothes were made to ensure warmth, protection, her shoes smooth against her skin, business attire left to rot in the closet of her old loft. Her eyes drift towards the pair before her once more, a mother and her daughter standing by garden spilling with plush grass. The girl is young, too young to be in primary school, yet old enough to call out and identify object after object. Her mother gives a small laugh as her daughter tests out each syllable, balancing their meanings on her tongue. The light bites down on Sun’s neck, it’s beginning to burn.

“Not every family is like that.” Nomi’s voice muffles the lapping of the fountain. Her hair is pulled back, her skin smells of floral soap, the sleeves of her pajamas rustle against Sun’s arm. Her Korean is impeccable, every word she pronounces mirrors that of Sun, a perfect replicate.

“No, not every family.”

_You never met her. She was like that._

The words are stuck in Sun’s throat, begging to be ripped out and feel their way into the air. She wasn’t emotional, she never had time to cry or mope, it wasn’t something she could do with her father. Weakness meant falling behind, it meant failing to follow through with what her mother wanted, it meant letting a lie slip past her lips as the last thing she says to the only person she loves in this world. Dying didn’t change her heart, it didn’t alter the comfort the memories gave, nor did it lessen the sting.

“No, no I didn’t meet her. Though...I can, I can feel how much you love her. I can feel that admiration, that yearning. I can understand it.” Nomi tucks her right leg underneath her body, the other bent for her to lie her chin upon her knee, she wraps her arms around her shin and sighs. “I always wondered if it was possible to have parents who were comfortable with their kids. When I was younger...and I guess even now, i-it’s impossible for some families.”

Sun looks at her, this woman with the world against her. Only they weren’t, they never could go against her, they all loved her, in their own way. It was odd, having so much adoration for a stranger halfway across the world. This responsibility for Nomi, to make sure she’s safe, to keep the others out of harm's way, it was unlike any other feeling Sun could describe. The knuckles on her left hand began to whine, the bruises were just beginning to yellow.

“My father has never been comfortable with me, he’s always sought for pride in my brother. Joon-Ki was all he saw, even when I owned up for my brother’s mistakes...it’s just how he is.” Sun rubs at her knuckles with an absent-minded stare, the mother and daughter have begun packing away their things, getting ready to leave.

“Isn’t that how fathers are? Motives of destruction, not giving a fuck of what comes about for their children?” Deep, low, biting words in her mother tongue wrap around her. Wolfgang was as blunt as stone, his body rigid and hard, placed far away from the pair on the bench. “It’s how the world turns.” He shrugs, a cigarette between his lips growing smaller and smaller by each passing second.

“Maybe, but our fathers don’t define who we are. Or what we decide to do with our lives.” Nomi scratches at her shin, the cotton material crinkling at each motion. “Sometimes our parents are there to just...be there. Nothing more.”

“Surely you’ve never lived in Germany.” Wolfgang’s scoff causes Sun to narrow her eyes. They can all feel it, the bitter regret, the guilt. “You weren’t there.”

“And yet I know what you’re talking about. What you did was the process of survival, radical and slightly horrific, but surviving nonetheless.” Sun watches them volley banter from side to side for only so long, she raises her hand to still them, her heart mimicking their own.

“Our fathers shaped us yes, but yet, they could only do so much. We’re all adults, we make our own path.” Sun's words are final. The sun’s light is beating down on the three, consuming them in the hot, wavering luminescence of the sky. Sun mind wanders to a time where her mother was only showing symptoms of her illness, when the world was still clear.

_“Strong and smart and beautiful. My Sun, perfect.”_  

Her words were so gentle.

She still remembers the gold medal in her palm, the ribbon twirling around her forearm with finesse at her accomplishment. She was better than Joon-Ki, and as much pride as she had, her mother knew to never to acknowledge that in front of the younger sibling. There was always a competition, even when the winner was called, she was always picked and prodded by her brother.

“She seemed like a very sweet woman.” Nomi manages a small, offering smile that seems to be reserved only for sadness. Sun takes it.

“She was. Though she was so much more than that. My mother was as brave as she was sweet. She was strong.” Nomi can only nod while Wolfgang puffs on his cigarette, head nodding a bit before crumpling it beneath his boot.

“Most mothers are, even the ones with shit luck.” His words bury beneath their feet, keeping them upright as a cloud begins to pass by the sun’s rays with ease.

Nomi stretches, her eyes drifting off into the horizon. “Maybe...maybe not.”


End file.
